


but how mortal i am

by aquilaofarkham



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Bittersweet, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Short One Shot, immortals falling in love with mortals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 23:45:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16732932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquilaofarkham/pseuds/aquilaofarkham
Summary: “… it isn’t fair.” The words taste bitter and miserable. They make Alucard feel like a child again.“Every human being has to grow old eventually.”“Then why can’t I? Why do I feel more vampire than human?”Trevor kisses the top of his head. “I wish I could tell you, but I’m not an expert on dhampirs. I wouldn’t worry, though. It’ll still be a while before I shuffle off this mortal coil.”“What if you’re wrong?”





	but how mortal i am

**Author's Note:**

> based on the trevorcard fic prompt where trevor has grown into an old man but alucard loves him regardless

Alucard notices everything; every change, every shift, every motion that alters its course. His perception has only grown more attuned over the decades. The dhampir sees how age can truly affect a human being as he points out the crow’s feet around Trevor’s blue eyes, still bright after all these years. He watches as the hunter’s walks become slower, weaker, and offers his hand every time.

The dhampir tries distracting himself with optimistic thoughts. Anything that will put his mind off the worst. He’s just tired, he’s always been tired. The same words come out of Trevor’s own mouth, along with the assurance that all he needs is some rest. Alucard agrees and puts him to bed. He joins Trevor, pressing his chest against his back as they spoon together. Just so he can feel him still breathing.

“You’re worrying too much,” says Trevor. “Stop being so dramatic.” A tall order to ask of someone like Alucard. He can’t help it; he knows how much Trevor and Sypha have changed. Then on occasion, he catches his reflection in a mirror and stops. There’s the same long golden hair, the same soft unblemished skin – nothing has changed. Only the look in his eyes.

Immortality has always weighed itself on Alucard’s conscious, though admittedly less so in the past. He recalls the many awkward yet necessary sit-downs a certain young dhampir had with his mother and father. Discussions that revolved around everything from drinking human blood to controlling one’s own transfiguration. Among these questions, immortality was brought up infrequently. A problem to be dealt with in the future – the far, far off future. A bridge to cross when Alucard eventually reaches it. Now that bridge is closer than ever before, a noose tightening itself around his neck. How naïve of him to believe that immortality wouldn’t cause any pain, not to himself nor to his loved ones.

Alucard peeks into the study room where Trevor spends most of his days. He sits in a large cushioned chair beside a window overlooking the woods that surround their home. The last few rays of sunlight shine onto his body and across the floorboards. His eyes are closed but not for long as Alucard’s steps sound off a chorus of creaks. Trevor blinks slowly before turning to the dhampir, giving him a weary smile.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t asleep. Just shutting my eyes for a bit.”

“Anything of interest out there?”

“Not really. Same view as always even if it is a nice sunset… it’d be more interesting with company, though.”

“Good thing I’m here then.” He carefully lowers himself into the same chair but soon notices how much of a tight squeeze it is. “Is this too crowded for you?”

Trevor hushes him by wrapping an arm around his waist, holding him close. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

Alucard finally relaxes as his arm drapes around Trevor’s shoulders. Resting his head near his neck, the two of them stare out at hues of gold and orange filling the sky. A minute passes and Alucard almost gets lost in this quiet, intimate moment. There was a time when he forgot how it felt to be held in such a tender manner. Now he’s smothered by such affection, yet there are no complaints from him.

It’s not long before Alucard realizes he’s the only one watching the sunset. Trevor in the meantime has shifted his attention to someone else. “It’s rude to stare without saying anything.”

“Sorry, I just… still can’t believe it.”

“What?”

“How you’re still such a pretty bastard.”

Alucard laughs. “As are you, especially with the beard.” He reaches over and runs a hand across Trevor’s chin, his fingernails gently scratching at the mass of short hairs. It may have been a bittersweet thing to witness over the years, but silver only made him and Sypha look better than they already did.

“You don’t have to lie.”

“I’m not.”

“Sure you aren’t. You know, there’s not a lot you can hide from an old man.”

Alucard nuzzles his cheek against Trevor’s shoulder. “Technically speaking, we’re both old men.”

“You’re right about that.”

They both snicker as though the passage of time means nothing and they’re back where they started; joking and pushing each other’s buttons just for a laugh. Yet Alucard’s jovial attitude doesn’t last. He realizes that what he said isn’t right – he’s not an old man. Perhaps only in the mind. He grew up far too quickly, against his own wishes with nothing he could do to stop it, and now age has left him completely. Another reminder of the harsh yet undeniable truth. He is not human and never has been.

“I’ve been thinking…”

“That’s always a bad sign.”

Wishing he would take this seriously, Alucard’s grip on Trevor’s tunic tightens. “As I was saying, I’ve been thinking about you, Sypha, and myself. How-“

“How much we’ve aged compared to you.”

“… it isn’t fair.” The words taste bitter and miserable. They make Alucard feel like a child again.

“Every human being has to grow old eventually.”

“Then why can’t I? Why do I feel more vampire than human?”

Trevor kisses the top of his head. “I wish I could tell you, but I’m not an expert on dhampirs. I wouldn’t worry, though. It’ll still be a while before I shuffle off this mortal coil.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“And what if I’m right? What if the world goes up in fire and brimstone tomorrow?” Looking into the dhampir’s sad eyes, Trevor holds his chin between his thumb and index finger. “Just promise me you’ll be strong when the time does come. And at least try to be happy.”

A difficult promise to make and even more difficult to keep, but Alucard will try. He then decides to change the topic before the air between them becomes unbearably melancholic. For Trevor’s sake and for his own.

“What was that nickname you had for me?” He asks, settling back into the hunter’s arms.

“Sorry?”

“Just now you called me a pretty bastard. It reminded me of something else you used to call me, something similar. What was it?”

“Oh, um…” Trevor searches his memories, hoping time and oldness haven’t taken too much of a toll on them. “I think it might have been _shayna punim_.”

“Right. Which means… pretty face.”

“Yes, exactly that.”

“I was so confused the first time you said it. Then you started calling me _shayna punim_ all the time.”

“I’m surprised you remember that far back.”

“There are a lot of things I remember.”

“It’s also surprising how you still like me after all those years.”

Alucard brushes some strands of hair out of Trevor’s tired eyes, hair he can never seem to tame or keep in place, and kisses him. Long, deep, and gentle. He pulls back before leaving a smaller one on his lips. “I’ll always love you, you stupid bastard.”

Trevor smiles, cocky and assured, which is just like him. “I thought I was the only one allowed to call you that.” 

 

* * *

 

Alucard keeps his promise to remain strong and happy when the time eventually comes. But it doesn’t last. He lets the grief wash over him, hating his stagnant existence while being unable to face Sypha, knowing he’ll lose her as well. She manages to carefully break down his walls bit by bit. Alucard lets her, yet as a wolf he buries his head into her lap, whimpering. Only because he doesn’t want her to see him cry.

Stroking his fur with wrinkled yet soft hands, Sypha offers some words of respite. Whether it’s in vain or not, she will have to wait and see. She’s already shed her own tears and knows how deep Alucard’s sadness runs. “There’s an old Speaker tradition…” She begins, feeling his body tremble with every whine. “When one of us dies, we never hold funeral pyres or processions. We allow ourselves to grieve, then we host a celebration of that person’s time in this world as well as their journey into the next. We pray for happiness and peace in their new life while we live out what’s left of our own, knowing that they haven’t left us.’

‘It’s not easy, but there is some comfort in that knowledge.”

Alucard stares up at her, having calmed down but doesn’t want to leave her side. Sypha rubs the top of his head and pats his neck. “You won’t be alone, my friend. You’ll never be alone.”


End file.
